Wednesday, January 13

It has been one of those days, one of those days when I wish I could wrap my arms around the world, give it a hug, and then reach into my toolbox and pull out just the right thing to fix all of the heartbreak.

I wish I had a plane in my toolbox so I could fly to Haiti and help these Pittsburghers make sure that the families who are waiting to adopt these beautiful babies will get to do so.

I wish I could fix it all.

Instead, I'm left to fix the problems that overwhelm a 3 (almost 4)-year old. I reach into that toolbox and find the right thing to make it OK that there are no Chad Danforth fruit snacks in the High School Musical fruit snack box. I use my arms to comfort her when she gets frustrated trying to write the word, "Dad." I cover her with another blanket when she cries that she is cold.

I'm grateful for the tools that I do have, the tools that allow me to remember that after a long, chatter-filled bedtime delay, that 3-year old turned to me and said one last thing before falling asleep:

25 comments:

I so know where you're at. I was up last night thinking about who else I could call about this plane situation for when those babies are granted refugee status and as the clock was turning into tomorrow I realized I'm going to still need to function today....and one thing I can do is continue on and try to find more ways to help.

This is exactly how I feel right now as well. I spent the night holding a feverish little boy wishing I could help him feel better, thinking of my friend's parents in Johnstown who will bury their oldest son today. I thought it was rough dropping a sick little boy at daycare. That's nothing. The world is a dark, ugly place today. Here's to hoping something beautiful blooms from it somehow...

I know how you feel. Times like these I feel so helpless. You may not be there to help physically but all you are doing to spread the word on your blog, facebook and twitter is wonderful. I just pray the word spreads enough and someone can step up and help.

I think, as moms, we always want to fix what's wrong with the world. When we can't, we're left to wonder why those magical powers we seem to have at home to fix anything broken don't work in the rest of the world. But, as moms always do, we'll keep trying, and do what ever it is that we can to help out the rest of the world, while still being super heros at home.

I hear you, and I am right there with you. It's times like this when we feel helpless, that we can turn to where we are needed most, within the cernterfold of our family, all the while keeping our hearts wide open to the world that needs our love exponentially.

between personal, local and international tragedies, my heart has hurt for days, and I am not sure when relief will come. That said, you get this so, so right - we need to fix the problems that cross our path, and continue practicing good will to the best of our abiities.

I think as parents we sometimes forget to focus . . . we look too hard at everything around us and scramble to fix what we can, and forget that some of the easiest (and most important) things to fix are right in front of us. You? You rock.

Wonderful ending. They can drive you 1000x crazy, and then just melt your heart with one phrase. And they always know JUST how to deliver it...

I wish I could help everyone in the world, too. Some days, I do whatever I can from where I sit, and other days, I just focus on my daily tasks and try to push the rest out of my head, knowing that nothing I am capable of at the moment could help the way I want to help... *sigh*

I know. Some days I don't know how I get anything done, and I filled with frustration and anger. And then something bigger than me changes my perspective and makes me remember what is important. The fact that we can all look beyond our lives is what makes us amazing. And the fact that many of us have kids, spouse, family, who look at us at the end of the day or call us on the phone to say "I love you"... that speaks volumes.

Great post. If your friend who lost her baby ever wants to talk, you know where I am. I'm so sorry for her loss (for all the losses).